Brother's Virtue
by HoodedSpellcaster
Summary: Six times Rodolphus forgives Rabastan, and one time he finally forgives himself.


QLFC Round 6 — Deadly Sins & Heavenly Virtues

CHASER 3: Write about a light character committing the sin of WRATH or a **dark character** demonstrating the virtue of **FORGIVENESS.**

Optional prompts: 3. (word) favour / 7. (song) 'Unconditionally' by Katy Perry / 8. (word) lightning

A/N: During this current season, this has been my favourite round so far. Last year our team wrote about the Seven Deadly Sins for the Daily Prophet competition (our story is called _Seven Deadly Sins of the Marauder Era_ , go check it out), so this year I decided to write about a virtue instead. I've actually written about Rodolphus and Rabastan earlier during the QL (Season 2, round 8) and because I like the Lestrange brothers, I decided to write about them once more. Thanks to Jordi (erbkaiser) and Sam (HP Slash Luv) for beta reading this.

* * *

 _Come just as you are to me_

 _Don't need apologies_

 _Know that you are unworthy_

 _I'll take your bad days with your good_

 _Walk through this storm I would_

 _I'd do it all because I love you, I love you_

* * *

 _"RABASTAN!"_

Rodolphus's pained voice drowns in the sounds around him. The battle doesn't stop, but Rodolphus can almost feel the earth quaking when the familiar body falls to the floor of the once familiar Great Hall. He can almost hear it, as if all the cries of the battle are just muffled noise on the background. He bolts, countering the spells flying his way as he runs. And as he runs he hopes he's wrong, but the twinge in his black heart is getting worse.

It wasn't even a Killing Curse that hit him, he tries to reassure himself. It was just a Stupefy, just a simple stunning spell. It takes more than that to take his brother out, Rodolphus thinks. He casts a curse, taking out a student duelling Dolohov, before he reaches his brother's body. He kneels down, eyes and hands searching for signs of life, but there's nothing. No pulse, no movements. Rabastan's wand lies a few feet from him. Rodolphus holds his brother close, his hand supporting Rabastan's head because his neck doesn't any more. Rodolphus keeps his eyes firmly shut. He doesn't want to see. He doesn't want it to sink in. He doesn't want Rabastan to be dead.

* * *

Young Rodolphus sneaks into the nursery, carefully closing the door behind. Mother almost never leaves the room any more to spend time with Rodolphus. She doesn't read to him or play with him outside like she used to. She doesn't tuck him in at night or eat breakfast with him in the morning. She barely even acknowledges him anymore. It's like he doesn't even exist to her. But Mother isn't there now and neither is Father. They're having tea with Mr and Mrs Black and that always takes hours. Rodolphus tiptoes to the cot.

He glares at the small bundle and he feels unspeakable anger. He never asked for a brother. He should have been enough for his parents. It's all the baby's fault that no one has time for him. What makes the baby more important than him anyway? Rabastan sleeps peacefully, blissfully unaware of Rodolphus's thoughts.

But when Rodolphus accidentally bumps the cot, Rabastan stirs and makes a small sound. Rodolphus looks around frantically when the baby opens it's eyes. It's going to cry, Rodolphus thinks in panic. It's going to cry and Mother will be mad. But against Rodolphus's expectations, Rabastan doesn't start crying. He just stares at Rodolphus, big brown eyes full of wonder.

"Um, hi?" Rodolphus tries awkwardly, waving at his little brother. Rodolphus lets out a small delighted sound that resembles a mix of a snort and a giggle. He flails his tiny arms, stretching them towards Rodolphus. Rabastan gurgles loudly, and Rodolphus hesitantly reaches over the cot's edge. Rabastan grips his finger tightly, making happy noises.

"Okay, then," Rodolphus mumbles, a weird warmth spreading in his chest. "I guess we'll get along."

* * *

The summer holiday ends in a week and Rodolphus has turned his room upside down in an attempt to pack for yet another year at Hogwarts.

"I swear I left it here," he groans, running his hand through his hair in distress. His wand has gone missing, and while he hasn't needed it in almost three months, he's going to need it now. Everything else, save for the new books for his fourth year, is neatly packed in his trunk but the damned wand. Rodolphus curses, slamming his fist on the table surface.

There's a knock on the door. "Yes?" Rodolphus snaps, immediately regretting it.

Rabastan flinches at his brother's tone. "I can come later," he mumbles, already turning away.

"Come in, Bas," Rodolphus says, his voice softer. "I just thought you might be Father. Do you need help with something?"

Rabastan hesitantly steps over threshold to his brother's room. He shakes his head, nervously twiddling the hem of his shirt. Rodolphus shrugs his brother's nervousness off. He doesn't want to push; Rabastan will tell him when he's ready, if he ever is. Maybe it's nothing else but his first year anxiousness. Rodolphus remembers he how suffered from the same thing.

"I can't find my wand," Rodolphus complains instead. "I'm sure I left it on the nightstand, but—"

"I'm so sorry," Rabastan says, quietly interrupting his brother. Rodolphus cocks his brow when Rabastan digs something from his pocket. "I didn't mean to break it." In his hands is Rodolphus's pine wand, or rather, the remains of it. It has broken into three splinters which Rabastan looks at in regret. "I shouldn't have taken it."

"No. No, it's okay," Rodolphus says, pulling Rabastan into an embrace before the sobbing starts. "I forgive you. It was an accident, right?"

Rabastan sniffs into the front of Rodolphus's shirt, eyes brimming with tears. "I- I just wanted to try it... I never thought it would break like that."

"Just between the two us," Rodolphus whispers, gently stroking Rabastan's auburn locks, "it never really worked that well with me because it was Father's old one. We can get us both wands from Ollivanders. Sounds good, huh?"

Rabastan smiles a little, drying the remains of his tears away. "Sounds good."

* * *

Rodolphus grins, lips almost touching Leslie Summers's ear as he whispers sweet nothings, and draws lazily circles on the girl's soft skin. Thanks to months of planning ahead, the dorm room is for once empty. The rest of the seventh year Slytherin boys are either partying at Hogsmeade, or having their own conquests elsewhere. Or they have simply been blackmailed into sleeping in the Common Room. Rodolphus would admit that in a heartbeat if anyone had the nerve to ask him.

"Do you hear that?" Leslie murmurs, stroking Rodolphus's chest. "It's raining."

Rodolphus hums in agreement as a flash of lightning lights up the room through the mass of water. "It's going to be one hell of a storm. I don't envy the guys at Hogsmeade."

That's when Rabastan — thirteen years at the time, but being rebellious and having a reputation to fill had sneaked out to Hogsmeade with older students to get drunk — stumbles into the room, soaking wet and barely standing straight. Leslie squeaks and hastily covers herself, glaring angrily at the younger Slytherin. She elbows Rodolphus. He glances at the girl, rolls his eyes, and sits up.

"Bas? Are you drunk?" he asks slowly, even though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah," Rabastan says. His smile is sloppy, not reaching his eyes. Rodolphus's brow furrows. This is not just about being drunk. Something must be wrong.

"Sorry, Leslie, I think you'd better go," Rodolphus says, not even facing the girl. She stares at him, dumbfounded, but realizing that Rodolphus won't be telling her he was just joking, she huffs, gets off the bed and collects her clothes from the floor. She slams the door behind. Rodolphus pats the bed.

"Come here, Bas," he says. "Want to tell me what's wrong?"

Rabastan's lower lip wobbles. "It's nothing, really," he whispers, taking off his wet jacket. "I just had an argument with... It doesn't matter." He stays quiet for a few minutes. "I'm sorry," he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leans forward, elbows digging on his knees. "I'm so sorry I ruined your night with Summers."

Rodolphus offers his brother a faint smile. "It's fine," he says, putting his hand on Rabastan's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "She wasn't worth my time anyway."

* * *

"How _dare_ you?!" Rabastan shouts, firing a spell at his brother. The flash hits Rodolphus on the chest, making him fly backwards and land painfully on their home yard. His wand is still in his pocket, and he has no intention of raising it against Rabastan. "Get your wand and fight like a man!" Rabastan continues.

"No," Rodolphus groans. He tries to get up but another spell makes him fall back on his knees. "I won't... fight you. But Bas, please, let me explain," he wheezes, holding his chest. The burning sensation in his lungs doesn't go away.

"What is there to explain?!" Rabastan cries out. "You slept with Honoria, Dolph! With my _betrothed_!" He pauses, face twisting in bitterness and pain, before casting the curse Rodolphus hoped his brother would not use. "CRUCIO!"

Rodolphus's whole body convulses on the ground, the pain being worse than fire and thousand needles going through his veins. He wants to say he was doing his brother a favour when he got involved with Honoria Greengrass to break them apart. That is the truth, not that Rabastan will believe it, even if Rodolphus ever gets to tell him that. After all, Honoria was, and is, everything but an honorable woman.

The pain lessens when Rabastan lifts the curse.

"Get out of my life," the younger Lestrange brother spits out like the words were venom burning his tongue. Rodolphus can't see him apparate away, but he knows Rabastan will be long gone before he can get another chance to open his mouth. Rodolphus pants, unable to breathe evenly or move a muscle to get up. He feels hard and heavy, dirt of the yard smearing his clothes and small rocks pressing into his skin. He understands his brother's anger and he can live with it for now.

It is his own fault anyway. Forgiving his brother for not wanting to hear his reasons is the least he can do. He just hopes Rabastan will someday forgive him, too.

* * *

Rodolphus walks back and forth in the Rowle Manor's sitting room. His Death Eater mask itches his skin, and his robes feel too baggy for his liking, even though all his garments are brand new. The discomfort he feels is just in his head, and he knows it. Half a dozen other Death Eaters are seated around the room

He told Rabastan to stay behind, to not get tattoo'd, to not join yet. He was still just eighteen, barely an adult even by wizarding standards. Rabastan wasn't the only one too young, Rodolphus thinks, listening how Bellatrix cackles manically when the screams start echoing in the room next door. Regulus Black, Barty Crouch Jr., and couple others all graduated within the last three years. They are children.

Not that the Dark Lord cares. Rodolphus shouldn't care either. They've all made the choice. So he forgives Rabastan for ignoring his advice and for making the choice too soon. Now they are in this together, but maybe it's for the best.

* * *

The battle of Hogwarts is over. The Dark Lord lays on the floor in a defeated heap. He's dead. So is Bellatrix, but Rodolphus doesn't mourn for his wife.

We _lost_ , Bas, Rodolphus tells silently to his brother. Throughout the battle, he had stayed protectively over Rabastan's body, fighting in turns against students and Aurors, firing curse after curse in a heated frenzy. He even puts up a fight when the remaining Death Eaters are rounded up to be sent back to Azkaban.

When he's pushed in his cell on that blasted island, Rodolphus wants to hate Rabastan for leaving him behind. Rodolphus is stripped of his wand and his pride. He has nothing, everyone and everything he cares about is gone.

But he can't hate Rabastan for dying on him. They are brothers, and whatever Rabastan does, Rodolphus will always forgive him.

* * *

Rodolphus smiles his mad, lopsided grin from the corner where he spends his days sitting. He knows every tile and every mold covered surface of his dark, musty cell. He hears voices in his head. Sometimes it's Bella he hears, sometimes it's Bas. Sometimes he hears the shrill cries of people he's tortured over the years. He has learnt to live with them.

He is a survivor, and he's allowed to forgive himself, too.

* * *

 _There is no fear now_  
 _Let go and just be free_  
 _I will love you unconditionally_


End file.
